Disney pics, Part II

Aunt T and the kids at Magic Kingdom

Mickey and the three older kids

Grandma and S at the convention

Two Boba Fetts

T fighting Darth Vader

H's turn

H's school journal entry after the trip. Note the correct light saber colors, plus his black hat that he wore that day.

The one-and-only T

T is four today—hooray!

Sometimes, I feel bad for other families because they don't have a T. He really is a spectacular child—spectacular in his awesomeness, and often spectacular in his tantrums.

1. He is a natural comedian. He loves acting out TV shows and movies, and making people laugh. He's hilarious and he knows it.

2. He is very affectionate and loving. He tells me he loves me about 20 times a day, and I hope he never stops doing it.

3. He lives life on his own terms. He likes things to be his idea, which becomes tricky when he needs to pick up toys or put away clothes. Sometimes, I just have to leave him alone to let him make the decision himself. (When I told A's mom about this, she said A was exactly the same way as a child. Nice to know the trait comes from somewhere.)

4. He adores his older brother. They play together all day long, which often leads to fights and shouts of "He hit me!" But it most often leads to awesome rockets made out of blocks, Jedi battles with light sabers, and impromptu baseball games in the backyard. I love how much these boys love each other, and I hope it never ends.

We're off to an indoor pool (complete with slides and waterfalls) with family and friends today to celebrate. Happy birthday, T. We love you!

Disney pics, Part I

Hot, pathetic babies sleeping at Discovery Cove.

After being so hot all day at Discovery Cove, I couldn't bear to put clothes on the poor babies. So, they ended the day in diapers.

The sweet relief of a water ride at Animal Kingdom.

The fam at Hollywood Studios.

Magic Kingdom

Pirate kids

We came... we saw... we conquered Disney World!

We're back! Rather than bore everyone but my mother with a travel log of our adventures, I thought I'd do a list of the high points and low points.

High points
A truly great flight out to Florida. Everyone did awesome (thanks, in part to the Benadryl I gave the babies. And yes, the doctor recommended I do it.)
Staying at this hotel. It was amazing!
Both H and T getting picked for the Jedi training at Disney Hollywood studios, and both defeating Darth Vader.
Standing in line for 10 minutes total to see Mickey, Minnie, and Goofy (sure, they were in their safari clothes at Animal Kingdom, but who cares?)
Swimming with assorted fish and stingrays at Discovery Cove.
Frozen lemonade, slushies, cold water, and the awesome water bottle/fan that we bought ($16 and it was worth every penny).
Watching my kids' faces light up during the Main Street parade—especially S, who was so thrilled to see all the princesses.
Having help from A's family—they were the best!
Seeing my kids go on the "big" rollercoasters and get less afraid than I would.
Having my sister join us for the last few days. She got some awful blisters on her feet from walking so much, but we had a blast with her!
Minimal whining from all three of the big kids.
Even less whining from the babies. They were such troopers!
Watching S be the star of the opening number at the big recognition event for my company's convention. She was amazing!

Low points
Record-setting heat (and don't forget the humidity).
A2 getting a fever and ear infection.
The $280 bill for having the doctor come to our hotel room to diagnose the ear infection and dispense the antibiotic.
Realizing that hotel housekeeping had thrown away N's reflux medicine. Yeah, she pretty much wasn't eating by the end of the trip.
Me getting three canker sores in my mouth, making any eating or drinking fantastically painful.
A2 waking up in the middle of the night on Saturday night, screaming his head off. I took him out to the hotel atrium and sat there for 45 minutes in my pjs and glasses, while he sleepily looked around at hundreds of people partying the night away. He finally fell asleep in the room an hour after that.

The highest high point of all... spending time in the "Happiest Place on Earth" with my six favorite people on earth.

(Pictures to follow later. I dropped the camera on the ground by Splash Mountain. It still works, but it's trickier to pull pictures off, so A will have to do it for me.)

Wicked, sharks, 1-2-3, and credit reporting

On Friday night, S and I went to see Wicked with A's sister. It was delightful. I didn't know the whole story (I know, can you believe it?), so it was great to experience it all with S. The next morning, she put on her new t-shirt and old witch's hat and made her brothers act out the play. H was Fiyero and T was a flying monkey.

This week, H had a program at kindergarten. All of the kids had completed diorama projects on animals (well, some of the kids did their projects; other projects were obviously completed by the parents). H picked sharks. Luckily for him, his aunt loves sharks so we got a cool shark and some other sea life to put in his project. Each of the kids had to present their projects (just reading a few sentences about the animal) and H did a great job.
For the past month or so, I've been using a different discipline tactic with the kids. The decision to try it came out of a pleading prayer for something, anything that would help. I immediately thought of a book I had gotten for free that I had never read. It's called 1-2-3 Magic and it's a fairly well-known program. It involves saying, "That's 1" the first time they whine, act out, etc, and "that's 2" the second time. On 3, they go to time out. (And yes, you can give an automatic 3 for things like hitting and such.) It's not rocket science and we've tried different forms of it before, but I think the part I like most about it is that you're supposed to take the emotion out of discipline. No arguing, no lectures, no begging your kids to behave. It's working really well, especially with T—and I think it's because I'm more calm.

Lastly, a T funny. The other day, he was coloring at the kitchen table with H. I was changing the babies' diapers and I heard T singing and tapping the table with two pencils like they were drumsticks. This is what I hear: "I married a dream girl, I married a dream girl, but she didn't tell me..." He kept singing the same part over and over again. Fairly quickly, I realized what he was singing. Then H pipes in, "She didn't tell me her credit was bad."

If you don't recognize it, here's a refresher:



I'm going to chalk this up to my boys having inherited their dad's uncanny ability to recite TV/movies after only one viewing, and not a result of any over-watching of TV.

Hot Dogs

Yep, you read that right. We're entering into the season of summer, and therefore, the season of hot dogs.

I have always loved hot dogs. Of course, as a woman, I've had to keep this love quiet—because they're not cool, right? Well, I don't care anymore. I am proudly proclaiming my love for hot dogs.

Every BBQ during the summer, I have to have one, because it's the only socially acceptable time for me to do so. "It's summer. I might as well have one!" I have to be careful because if I first eat something "good" like a chicken breast, I'm still unable to pass up the hot dog, and my meat total for the evening can quickly get a little ridiculous.

Other times of the year, I sometimes get weird looks if I say I like hot dogs. "They're sickening, you know. How could you eat those things? Do you know what they're made of?"

"I was just joking, seriously. I hate them, too."

But I don't. I love them.

I remember eating them as a kid for lunch... with milk. (Yes, it's kind of a gross combination, but at the time, it was great.)

I am a purist, though, when it comes to toppings. I'm strictly a ketchup fan, although I wouldn't say no to a chili cheese dog if you offered. Mmm, chili cheese dog.

As much as women try to deny it, there are a lot more of us than you might think. A's cousin and I used to work together. She, too, loves hot dogs. When another girl started working there, we thought she was great, but after seeing her buying sub sandwiches and other healthy fare for lunch, we thought there was no way that she would be a fellow HD lover. One day, we asked her. Imagine our surprise to find out we were wrong.

Do you love them, too? (And if you don't, please keep it to yourself, mmm, kay?)